


Love is What You've Been Through

by SilverMirror12



Category: London Spy
Genre: Alex lives, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Reunions, even if i have to make it that way myself, london spy is NOT a gay tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMirror12/pseuds/SilverMirror12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Danny.” God, Danny had almost forgotten what Alex sounded like, low and warm like a fire at home. “I’m… I’m <em>so sorry</em>.” It sounded like it hurt Alex to say the words, but at the moment he could be reciting the periodic table for all Danny cared.</p><p>Several words – <em>how</em> and <em>why</em> and <em>love</em> and <em>you</em> – tumbled around Danny’s head. What came out was, “Are you okay?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is What You've Been Through

It said something about his life, Danny thought as the car rolled to a crawl beside the curb, that mysterious black cars with tinted windows _didn’t_ set him on edge anymore. Danny stopped walking, and watched the driver’s window roll down with a sense of resignation so heavy it felt like his bones were made of lead. There was some measure of comfort to be found in that; what more could they possibly take from him? His life seemed a much smaller price after the loss of so many others’.

The American smiled at him, his blasé expression revealing nothing. “You look like you need a lift.” He nodded toward the backseat.

The car smelled like cigarettes, but the leather was new enough to creak when Danny’s back pressed against it. The doors automatically locked – of course they did – and the American was driving again before Danny could finish putting his seat belt on.

“Where are we going?”

“Anyone ever tell you the journey’s more important?” The radio clicked on, and classical music filled the empty spaces of the car.

“Not this one.” Danny didn’t bother masking the bitterness of his voice.

The American chuckled. “You know, I’ve found there’s very few things in this world a good soundtrack can’t improve.” He wouldn’t say anymore, no matter what Danny asked. Damn spies. Always took their sweet time explaining things, if at all. Danny gave up quickly, and watched his reflection in the opaque glass. Was there a code in the music? He listened, but Bach wasn’t forthcoming. Nor were Mozart or Wagner.

A phone dropped into his lap in the middle of Handel, jolting Danny from his thoughts. It looked identical to the one Rich had given him, with a single number programmed in.

“Dial that, count to ten, and say ‘twinkle, twinkle, little star’.”

Irritated, Danny looked up. “Seriously?”

The American shrugged. He was probably smirking, the bastard. “Humor me.”

Out of spite, Danny didn’t dial right away. He turned the phone over in his hands, though they both knew there was nothing for him to really examine. Black case, blue screen, white numbers. It wasn’t a UK number, either.

The phone picked up halfway through the second ring. No one answered, but Danny could hear slow breathing over the line. Feeling foolish, he counted backwards from ten and muttered, “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”

A sharp gasp whistled in Danny’s ear. Then, choked and almost too quiet to hear, “Danny.”

Danny jerked back so violently that he hit his head on the low ceiling. The phone creaked in protest as its edges dug harder and harder into Danny’s fingers. The back of the American’s head grew blurry in Danny’s vision.

_No. No, please, not this. You can’t lie to me about this, I won’t - I can’t –_

“…Alex?” Danny finally whispered. He didn’t dare breathe. Handel was white noise in his ears.

“Danny.” God, Danny had almost forgotten what Alex sounded like, low and warm like a fire at home. “I’m… I’m _so sorry_.” It sounded like it hurt Alex to say the words, but at the moment he could be reciting the periodic table for all Danny cared.

Several words – _how_ and _why_ and _love_ and _you_ – tumbled around Danny’s head. What came out was, “Are you okay?”

Alex laughed a touch hysterically. “I’m better now,” he admitted. “You don’t know how good it is to hear you.” Alex still spoke slowly and quietly, like Danny was a spooked animal he was coaxing. Or maybe he thought this was a dream; Danny was certainly considering it.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.” A long exhale. Danny imagined Alex rubbing his forehead the way he often did when he was stressed. (He’d been surprised when Danny pointed it out to him, or maybe just surprised someone noticed.) “It’s all a mess, has been even before you came. I wanted to tell you so many times…”

“Tell me now.”

“I will.” The American turned up the radio. Danny glared at him, about to snap, but when Alex began speaking faster Danny realized it was a signal. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. For now, trust Wally, okay? He wants to help.”

Realizing Alex was waiting for his reply, Danny nodded. “Okay.”

Alex sighed again, this time in relief. “I love you, Danny.”

That did it. Danny felt the tears descend down his cheeks as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. “I love you, too.”

Wally reached back, dangling a tissue in his hand. Danny took it and wiped his nose. “See? Music to your ears, isn’t it?”

 

* * *

 

 They drove for three hours in and out of London. Wally (“I thought about Waldo, but that was too heavy-handed”) wouldn’t talk any more about Alex, saying that the answers Danny wanted deserved to be told from Alex’s mouth. Danny did learn the basics, however.

Yes, they did lock Alex in a trunk. Yes, they did let Frances try and talk to him before drugging her. No, she didn’t know he was alive. They’d kept Alex imprisoned for months, forcing him to refine his formula. The deception was for the benefit of the other intelligence agencies (yes, that part was true as well). And yes, Danny had been kept alive all this time as a bargaining chip.

“You’re the only one he cared enough about,” said Wally when the sky became watery with the oncoming dawn.

They finally pulled up to a house surrounded by acres of farmland well outside of the city. The exterior was crafted to look uninhabitable, but the door was sturdy when Wally performed a series of knocks against its surface. Inside was similarly nondescript… and empty of Alex. Danny felt his throat close up as the beginnings of panic began to claw against his chest.

Then Wally raised his voice slightly and said, “I’m going to take a smoke.” He clapped Danny on the shoulder before closing the front door behind him. This seemed to be the final security check, because footsteps immediately sounded from a room off to Danny’s right. And then he was there.

Danny froze at the sight of Alex. He was thinner, his hair was longer, and he looked exhausted. But he was breathing, and staring at Danny like _he_ was the one back from the dead. Danny made an aborted move toward him, but couldn’t bring himself to lift his feet from the floor. This was the moment when dreams ended. He would run with outstretched arms to the man he loved (god, Danny still loved him _so damn much_ ), and then he would wake up just before they touched. Danny would wake up alone and cold and sick, and he wasn’t ready for it. He’d happily do no more than stare at Alex if it meant he could live in a world where they were both alive.

Alex had other ideas. He was walking toward Danny slowly, giving him plenty of time to run. Danny sobbed, tried to tell him to stop because he wasn’t ready to lose Alex again, because after everything he’d lost and suffered, _this_ would be the lie that broke him. Alex continued his advance until he was a single step away from Danny’s chest. His eyelashes were wet and his hand trembled when he raised it to Danny’s face. Gentler than Danny had ever seen him, Alex brushed his thumb under Danny’s eye, catching the tears as they fell.

_Are you okay?_

Danny didn’t remember moving. A single heartbeat saw them crashing together, arms and legs a flurry of motion as they sought to touch every inch of each other that they could. Alex actually picked him up, and Danny’s legs wrapped like claws around his waist as he kissed Alex’s face, lips and neck. Alex’s skin was warm ( _alive_ ) and his grip was crushing ( _alive_ ) and when Danny’s back hit the wall Alex’s chest pressed into his ( _alive alive **alive**!)_ so that Danny could imagine feeling Alex’s heartbeat racing in time with his own. Alex had been hesitant over the phone – afraid, Danny realized distantly, afraid Danny would hate him _as if he ever could_ – but his touch was greedy. With the wall to support his lover, Alex’s hands were free to rake over every inch of Danny they could find. They ran through his hair heedless of tangles, cupped his ass, laced their fingers together and held Danny’s jaw to keep him still as they kissed each other breathless.

It wasn’t sexual, even if their bodies were responding to the stimuli, but a desperate need to affirm that the other was real and still willing to love them. Still, Danny felt heat curling low in his hips embarrassingly soon. Below him Alex began to twitch, and buried his nose between Danny’s neck and shoulder.

The world whited out everything but their names, ripped from each others' throats with raw devotion. Danny pressed his face into Alex’s hair, and felt Alex lowering them to the ground as emotion and orgasm stole the strength in his legs. Still his grip on Danny never wavered, and Alex twisted so his partner would settle into his lap rather than the hard floor. They stayed like that for a long time. Danny kept pressing intermittent kisses to Alex’s temple, and Alex’s hands continuously caressed Danny’s back. Neither of them had stopped crying.

“You have questions,” Alex murmured some time later. Danny stirred, turning his head to look at Alex directly.

“They can wait.”

Alex laughed. The sound was short and watery, but it made Danny beam. “You’ve waited a long time,” he pointed out.

“I waited for you,” Danny corrected him. He hugged Alex tighter, remembering with a pang of grief one of his last conversations with Scottie ( _I wish I could’ve told him_ ). “I don’t care about the rest. It’s window dressing. All I want is you here, with me. None of the rest matters.”

“They hurt you because of me.” Alex seemed determined to have this conversation, which was inconvenient because the frown on his face was very out of place in a reunion, in Danny’s humble opinion. “Any time they weren’t happy with my work, or thought I needed a reminder… Christ, Danny, they made you think you had AIDS.”

Danny blinked at him before his face split into a wild grin. He grabbed Alex’s face and kissed him, feeling like the relief might carry him away if he didn’t find some kind of anchor. “That’s wonderful!”

Alex frown deepened. “No, it’s not—“

“Alex.” Danny kept his hands where they were after he pulled away. Alex’s hand rose immediately to hold one of Danny’s wrists, his thumb stroking the knuckles tenderly. “I blame them for this. Okay? _Them_. If I blamed you – if I hated you – I wouldn’t have kept looking.”

“I couldn’t believe you did,” Alex whispered. He searched Danny’s face like he was waiting for Danny to laugh and tell him he’d been fooled. “You had so many chances to walk away. I expected you to. I _wanted_ you to.”

“I told you that if things weren't okay, we’d deal with it together.” Danny gestured around them. “We’re together now.”

“I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“I’ve done all right so far.”

“There may still be some things I can’t tell you right away. For your sake.”

“You’ll tell me what’s important,” said Danny. He believed it, too, and he could tell Alex realized that.

Alex shook his head. “You are… amazing.”

“I know.”

Alex laughed again, stronger and brighter this time. Danny couldn’t remember a happier moment in his life. “I love you.” The kiss that punctuated this kept Danny from replying, but that was okay. There was a future for them now, a future where Danny could say it as often as he wanted.

Their story was still being written, and no matter what anyone said, it _would_ have a happy ending.

**Author's Note:**

> Love is what you've been through with somebody. - James Thurber
> 
> I imagine this happening shortly after the "finale", so Alex has been missing almost a year. In my mind, MI6 imprisoned Alex to have his formula for themselves, and it took this long for Wally and his people to A) free Alex and B) make things safe enough to bring Danny to him (preferably before Danny was killed; it was a stressful time for poor Wally).
> 
> Also I refuse to accept that Danny actually has HIV. Aside from being another part of the Gay Tragedy TRS is writing, it just doesn't make sense as a plot point. Same reason I brought back the American, because seriously WHAT was up with him? Taking time to address all of the plot holes would detract from the reunion, though, so draw your own conclusions about Scottie, the escort, the empty apartment, etc.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope this helped anyone who was hurt by episode 5.


End file.
